A Little Like
by Devanta
Summary: A little like goes a long way. Just a short, everyday sort of piece.


_Author's Note: I got bored after reading about a dozen Dramione fics. What can I say?  
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_Disclaimer: Harry Potter, its characters, and locations will never be mine_

**A Little Like  
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"Don't be stupid, Malfoy," she growled, "I highly doubt that you'll be anything other than a blithering prat."

He seethed. This girl. Always with the insults and holier-than-thou attitude. Know-it-all-ness was drilled into every particle of her being. And now he got to see her four times more often. Eighth year, and both had been doomed to the same quarters as Head Boy and Girl. It was hell. Living hell. Every day, coming down the stairs to this insufferable little -

"Oh please, Granger, I've more decency than you could ever even hope to suck on," he hissed back. Today had been particularly bad. It was always the case when they had Potions together. Either he got the better grade and the favoritism that grinded her gears, or he got the favoritism and the lower mark, which, naturally, should just never happen. Regardless of which situation it was, it made them both more sensitive to the others barbs. Infinitely more so. "I've only had things like _manners_ drilled into my head since the day I was born."

"Oh, that's rich, coming from the spoiled little princess who can't so much as look at me without snapping some rude name or insult!" she huffed, arms crossed over her chest. "At least _I _can restrain myself!"

Why that little... "Restraint is something you do _not _have, Granger. You're hand is always the first in the air when questions are asked in class, and you can't even contain yourself long enough to be called on," he snapped. "It's a wonder Gryffendor has had any House Points at all since you got here."

"Just because I'm smarter - "

And on and on and on. This had become average for Hermione Granger and Draco Malfoy, an inevitability that both sat through for one to three hours every single night before bed. It never seemed to occur to either of them that they could both just get up and go to bed.

Hermione looked at her watch and then went back to glaring at the fire that chirped cheerily in the hearth. Draco did something similar, only choosing to glare at a disgruntled painting instead. Silence had fallen between them, neither winning their nightly argument, as per usual. A few minutes of tense silence always signaled an end to their day. However, tonight, neither seemed to want to move. They caught each others eye for a moment, a split second, before both chose something new to focus their glaring at. This Friday night was just turning out terrible.

She broke first. "Dammit, Malfoy, don't you have some girl to be deceiving into thinking you're some kind of cute so you can get laid?"

"Why, Granger? You jealous?"

"Oh, don't you wish, ferret!"

"Pfft, hardly. I have higher standards than disgusting muggle-born's like you."

She didn't respond and they fell into silence once more. Only now, Draco's face was home to a smug, self-satisfied smirk, while Hermione curled tighter in her far corner of the couch. Minutes ticked by. Hermione slowly slipped to the floor to pad over to the Head Commons bookshelf. Draco rolled his eyes at her. "Reading again, bookworm?"

"Better than talking to you."

Draco snorted, ignoring her calm and quiet tone. "There are people out there who would pay _hundreds _of galleons just to be in the same room as me, Granger."

"And I'm not one of them."

He frowned at her back. She pulled down a book and opened it to read the table of contents. "What's wrong, Granger, did I hurt your feelings?" he sneered. She didn't answer. "Alright then, grumpy guts, don't talk to me."

She snorted, but didn't say anything, turning the page. Draco stared hard at her back, taking in the stray hairs of her ponytail and the slightly crooked pleat of her skirt. She pretended not to notice, only making the Slytherin more antsy. More minutes drug by, Hermione turned the page another two, agonizingly slow times. He burst to his feet and snapped, "Dammit, Granger, you're supposed to fight back!"

She just shrugged, not looking at him. Just turning the page again. He opened his mouth to yell, but forced himself to not by physically turning away and clenching his fists. Deep breaths. One. Two. He turned back and calmy, slowly, said, "What's got your knickers in a knot, Granger?"

"It doesn't matter."

"When it tampers with our arguments it sure as hell does! Now, get it out there before I decide to not pretend like I care," Draco growled.

"It doesn't matter. Just drop it, Malfoy."

"Like hell I will," he snapped, stalking over to her and forcing her to turn and look at him. That he did shocked her, her brown eyes wide in a gape. "What. Is. Wrong."

Something broke. A tear slid down her cheek. Somehow she kept a straight face as she quietly said, "Ron went back to Lavender."

Draco stared. "Oh."

"Yeah. Can we leave it alone now?"

He wanted to say yes. He wanted to just move on from that awkward fact. Instead, he pulled her into an awkward hug with a grimace on his face. "Don't tell anybody about this," he hissed darkly.

"I never do, do I?"

**Darits**

_Closing Note's: Makes sense? Doesn't make sense? It exists, that's about all that matters to me at this point. Also, "Darits" is Latvian for "done".  
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~D


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